The Rising Hunter's Moon
by S-T-3-P-H-Y
Summary: AU: Chris chooses not to kill Victoria and she becomes a werewolf. Lines will be drawn, bonds will be tested - some will be broken forever, others will become stronger. As the Argent family struggles to adapt to Victoria's transition into a werewolf, they face trials, obstacles and bloodshed. They will be hunted down by their own kind. How far will Chris go to protect his family?


**Chapter 1 - Cocoon**

Victoria firmly held the blade pointed against her chest. Her eyes shone with unshed tears and she took a deep breath trying to prepare herself for what she thought she had to do.

The knife started to shake in her hands. "I can't do this myself. Chris, help me," she implored with a trace of fear in her voice. Victoria turned to face her husband, her eyes silently pleading with him.

Agony was etched into Chris's features as he stared into his wife's eyes. Since she had been bit, an internal battle waged on inside him. Between the natural and the supernatural. Between right and wrong. Between love and commitment. The lines that he had once thought were so clear were becoming blurred. Time was nearly up. Chris only had moments to make his choice: kill her or save her. He tried to block out Gerard's voice in his head and to focus on what his own instincts were telling him.

"It's coming. I can feel it. You have to do it now," she whispered urgently as her eyes started to glow the color of the sun. Victoria clenched her jaw and tried maintain control of herself, but she could feel the wolf taking her over one piece at a time.

Chris eased the knife from her grip and let it drop soundlessly onto the carpet.

Her yellow eyes were wide with alarm. "What –," Victoria started.

"I'm sorry," he interrupted, putting his hand on her shoulder and dropping his head. "We can't lose you – not like this."

His hand was ripped from her shoulder when Victoria dove for the blade. She intended on finishing the job herself before it was too late. Victoria wouldn't allow herself to become a murderous and hideous beast. If Chris wasn't strong enough to do what needed to be done, then she would do it on her own. Even though she wanted his help, when it came down to it, she didn't truly need it.

In a swift and decisive movement, Chris reached behind him and pulled a tranquilizer gun from the back of his jeans. Just as she was inches from grabbing the knife, he shot her in the back of the neck, knocking her out instantly. Her body laid sprawled on the carpet.

He had been prepared for the possibility that he wouldn't be able to go through with letting her die so he brought the dart gun as a temporary solution to the problem. Even though the tranquilizer wouldn't stop her transformation, it would only keep her unconscious during it for a few hours, which would give him enough time to move to her a safe and remote location.

After Chris tucked the gun back into his jeans, he stood staring down at Victoria's body, his hands resting on his hips with worry in the slant of his brows. He knew that this choice would come with heavy consequences, which would affect the entire family, but then again, so would her death. He took a steadying breath, trying to clear his mind of the dozens of thoughts running through his head. Now was the time for action, not thinking; he didn't have much time before she woke up.

Chris lifted his wife from the floor and eased her over his shoulder, wrapping an arm around her to keep her balanced there. Struggling under her weight, he made his way downstairs and out the door. The chilly night air stung his skin as he dug into his pocket with his free hand to find his car keys. Once he unlocked the SUV, he lowered her into a lying position in the back seat. Her limp arm fell off the side of the gray leather seat, but instead of fingernails on her hand, he saw claws.

He quickly turned his head away from the sight and slammed the back door. Through the reflection of the car's window, a mask of revulsion looked back at him. As he went around the car toward the driver's seat, doubt oozed into him - even more pervasive than the cold air surrounding him. _Was this a mistake? Should he have listened to Gerard? _Questions circled around in his head like vultures circling its prey.

Chris dropped into the front seat of the car and started the engine. As it roared to life, he shook his head as if trying to shake the thoughts out of his head and gripped the wheel so tight his knuckles turned white. The tires squealed when Chris made a sharp turn onto the street.

Fifteen minutes later, the car lurched to a stop at an abandoned self-storage facility on the outskirts of town. He had a key to one of the units. This was the only place he could think of that Gerard didn't know about and would be isolated enough for her to transform without putting anyone in danger.

Chris scanned the area through the windows of his car, making sure no one was around. He glanced into the rearview mirror, his gray eyes full of uncertainty as he thought about what lay ahead. Then his eyes shifted to the clock, he had to get her into that unit and secured there before the tranquilizer's effect wore off.

His boots hit the damp pavement as he got out of the car. He opened the back seat to find Victoria's mouth hanging open slightly, revealing sharp and lethal-looking fangs. The sight of her lying there, a werewolf, stirred a whirlwind of emotions inside him – anger, disgust, despair, fear. Chris's jaw tightened as he shoved all those unpleasant emotions away to do what needed to be done.

He heaved her upright, swung her over his shoulder and treaded heavily to the unit, unlocking and opening the door one-handed. As he lifted the roll-up metal door, it rattled loudly in protest, sounding out of place in the dead silence of the night. The container was empty except for the manacles chained to the back of the corrugated metal wall. This place was meant to be an interrogation room for out of control werewolves, but he hadn't got around to fully setting it up; it lacked the tools necessary for the interrogations. It would still work well for holding a werewolf though. He just never thought the first werewolf he would bring here would be his own wife.

He put her down next to the shackles, his muscles relieved from the strain of carrying her. Wiping pellets of sweat from his forehead, he crouched down beside his wife's slumped figure and clamped down the cold steel restraints around her wrists. He doubted that shackles would hold her all night since it was a full moon, but knew she wouldn't be able to break out of the storage unit.

With one last pained glance at his wife, he pulled down the clattering door and locked it. Chris put his outstretched hand against the door and let out a forceful breath. He didn't want her to go through this alone and wanted to be there for her in the morning when she woke up so he decided to stay the night. Chris dug his phone out of his pocket and sent a quick text message to Allison, explaining to her they wouldn't be home tonight, which was better than having to text her to meet him at the hospital so he could tell her that her mother died.

On the other hand, this decision meant putting all their lives in danger, not just because Victoria was a werewolf, but because of Gerard. He wouldn't let this go. Gerard was cold and ruthless. He would hunt them all down until Victoria was dead, killing anyone standing in his way without hesitation. Victoria knew all the consequences of her…affliction, which was part of the reason why she was willing to sacrifice herself – to protect him and Allison.

Chris started pacing back and forth in front of the storage unit, his boots splashing into stagnant puddles, scattering water in his wake. Of course, he wanted to protect Allison too, which was why this choice was so damned hard. It went against his instinct to protect her, but in some ways he was protecting her – from having to experience her mother's death. He knew that a tragedy like that would harden Allison, take away her innocence and change her forever. He's seen it plenty of times in his line of work.

If Chris was being honest with himself, part of his decision was motivated by his own selfish feelings. He just couldn't bear to lose his wife, much less be responsible for her death. He knew he was letting his emotions affect his judgment, and as a hunter, he also knew that that was how people end up getting killed. Gerard had taught him that decisions needed to be made from a detached and logical perspective.

Chris clenched his fists together, staring toward the stretch of storage doors ahead. He had so many conflicting feelings and thoughts. The thought at the forefront of his mind was: "_Was he being weak by letting his heart guide his actions?" _He felt like the walls were pressing in against him at all sides. In frustration, he put his hands behind his neck and interlocked his fingers as he paced. Shaking his head in response to his thoughts, he argued to himself that being weak meant taking the easy way out though, and this was anything but easy. Besides, this choice was based on more than just his own emotions.

Chris stopped pacing to lean up against the closed door and cross his arms. He searched the midnight blue sky desperately as if it held the answers he needed. His eyes paused on the moon, which looked like a small white button in the vast horizon. Despite his doubts, the decision felt right deep down inside him. Killing Victoria would have gone against the code since she hasn't harmed anyone. He reminded himself that not all werewolves are killers, some can control themselves. It was something that he learned from Scott. If Scott can control himself, Victoria can too, he reasoned. She doesn't have to be a monster. Once Victoria finds a way to control herself, she would be no more dangerous to Allison than Scott is. Then, the only danger is Gerard, who is considerable one though.

He wished Gerard could be reasoned with, but feared that Gerard's hatred of werewolves ran too deep and his desire for revenge was too powerful. In order to protect his family, he knew he'd have to kill his father.


End file.
